The Reason
by ForeverSmiling
Summary: Imagine John Watson, only as a woman.  This is the story of the hardships faced between the two as they figure out their feelings.  Of course, Moriarty will get in the way of that.  From this point on, John Watson is now Jane Watson.
1. Journal Entry 1

_January 5th, 2012_

In all of the years I have known him, I have never once seen him cry. I have never seen him show any emotion besides excitement, happiness, and rarely, confusion. At other times, he doesn't show emotion at all. He just sits there and thinks about something I will never know about. He isn't one for sharing thoughts or emotions. Come to think of it, I have never seen him angry either. He is always just a shell of himself. He is only excited when he gets a case, only happy when he finishes it, and only confused while solving it.

When he is between cases, the things he used to do to himself are staggering. He has never elaborated on his drug use. I don't know how he started, I don't know how he recovered, but I do know that he wishes he didn't. He knew it was bad for him but he is just bored now. Boredom will kill you.

Then there is his brother, the one who always spies on him and offers money to other people for information on what he is doing at all costs. I only met him twice and I wouldn't mind if those were the last two times. I don't dislike him; he is just a bit eerie. It is obvious, however, that he actually is just concerned about him. With his brother being a recovered cocaine addict, he has a good reason to be.

His arch enemy, whom I used to believe was his brother, constantly haunts us. I also used to believe people couldn't have arch enemies, but I was clearly wrong about that. I can still hear that maniac's voice in my head, telling me what to say to him, with that bomb on my chest. Who knew that psycho would actually be the one to save us? I don't suppose I need to go into detail about that. I am sure it is not the last we have seen of him.

I said before that I have never seen him cry, I am used to the Sherlock that I know. Yet today, I walked into the flat to find Sherlock asleep on the couch, his eyes red and puffy. The pillow his head was resting on was slightly damp near his eyes. What could be bothering my friend? I only want to know so I will know whether or not I can help him. What if I can't do anything? I only hope it is not what I am afraid of the most.

I love him as a friend. I would know if it was something more. I know it sounds horrible, but I will not let myself into a relationship I don't want to be in. If that is what Sherlock is upset about, I will have to move out and find my own flat. I know it would hurt him even more, but there is nothing I can do. I only want him as my friend, my flat mate, and myself as his doctor.

I am not good at deduction like he is. I will not be able to know what he is thinking unless I ask him or he approaches me. He doesn't like to talk to other people about his thoughts, so the latter is unlikely. I will have to start the conversation, but I have to be ready for the unexpected. I will just have to hope for the best. I do not want to stop sharing the flat with him, but I may have no choice.

Until next time,

Jane H. Watson.


	2. The Pool

_Flashback_

"Probably my answer has crossed yours." Sherlock said as he pointed the gun at Moriarty, then at the bomb sitting on the floor. My heart was pounding as I sat against the wall, staring at the bomb, then at Sherlock. Moriarty stood quiet for a few minutes, though it seemed like an hour. Finally, he turned around, whispered something into his earpiece, and the red lights pointing at our chests disappeared.

"I'll tell you what, I'll let you two go for now. However, don't think for a second that I will forget about you. Maybe I will be gone for a few years, maybe only a few months, but I will be back. When I come back, you better be prepared. I promise to rot you both from the inside, and Sherlock, I will remember to burn that heart of yours right out of your body. Farewell for now."

I was still frozen; my heart was beating so loud I could practically hear it. It feels as though it will break out of my chest at any moment. The world around me is silent, or so it feels that way. I didn't realize that Sherlock was calling my name until he started shaking me.

"Jane, answer me! Are you okay?"

I slowly get up, allowing him to help me to my feet. I don't speak; I only nod to reassure him. I had never been in that situation before. Living with Sherlock, I'm sure it wouldn't be the last time. The first time is always the worst I suppose. I only hope that I don't develop post-traumatic stress disorder or something. I am snapped back into reality once again by Sherlock directing me to the pool's exit. I thank him and let him take me by the hand while he wordlessly hailed a cab to take us home.

Upon arrival, I took off my coat and hung it up on the hook. Sherlock paced back and forth, but eventually just sat on the couch. I walked over to the chair and sat down as well. Moriarty's warning replayed in my head over and over again. How long will it take for him to return? What will he be planning? There are so many questions and the waiting might make me too anxious.

"Sherlock, do you think he was serious?"

He looked up at me and answered very calmly.

"After everything he's done, we have to take him seriously. All we will have to do is be on guard more often; we don't know when he'll strike again, or how."

"Excuse me; I'm going to just go to the bathroom for a minute."

"Take your time." He said with a smile.

I get up and walk over to the small bathroom and just look in the mirror. My long brown hair is slightly tangled and my makeup is smeared around my eyes. I take a paper towel, run it under the water, and wipe all of the makeup off. Once it is all off, I throw the paper towel in the wastebasket and grab the hairbrush. It takes me about ten minutes to untangle everything and make my hair look better. I am so caught up with my hair I don't notice Sherlock in the doorway.

"Are you okay?"

His presence surprised me so much it made me jump and I dropped the hairbrush on the floor. I told him I was fine and scrambled to pick it up, apologizing profusely.

"Why are you apologizing to me? You only dropped the brush."

"I know I'm just a little jittery right now."

"How did it happen?"

"How did what happen?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

I sigh and tell him that I will explain in the other room. He nods and is the first to make his way there. We resume our original seats on the couch and the chair.

"Well, I was upset after our row and I was taking a walk down the street. I didn't get very far, maybe four blocks, and I was walking past an alley when someone grabbed my arm and pulled me in."

I looked at Sherlock to see if he was listening. He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands intertwined. I continued with my story.

"It may have been Moriarty, but I couldn't tell. Immediately after I was pulled into the alley, I was blindfolded with a black bag and dragged into a car. We drove for a little while, I tried to figure out where we were going, but I guess it didn't matter very much since they took off my blindfold once we were inside and I was face to face with Moriarty. I didn't know it was him at first, he introduced himself.

"I asked him what I was doing there and he said that he had a score to settle with you. I had no idea what he was talking about and before I knew it, I was grabbed from behind and a vest was placed on my chest. I only realized it was a bomb when I looked down. After that, a big winter coat was placed over me."

Sherlock made a noise to indicate that he was indeed listening, but remained in the same position.

"To be honest, one of the scariest parts was before I walked out to see you. He walked up to me, stared at me for a few seconds, and stroked my cheek. He said I was too beautiful to be running around with you and said that one day, he will change that.

"I tried to be strong; I yanked away and told him off. I said that I would never go with him and that Sherlock Holmes would always win. He simply told me not to forget who had the bomb on their chest."

My voice started to rise unintentionally as I continued to tell the story, tears forming in my eyes.

"I sat there for hours and hours, not knowing if he would get tired of waiting and just set the bomb off. I didn't know if he would do anything else to me! I was given an earpiece and forced to go out there and listen to his grating voice in my head, telling me what to say. All the while, I am scared out of my mind, worrying that his sniper would shoot you or me. Once you tore the vest off of me, I was relieved but I was still shaken up. Imagine my surprise when he came back in. I should have been relieved when he let us go again, but his warning that he will be back scared me. I'm sorry."

Sherlock looked up at me from his position with a confused look on his face.

"Sorry about what?"

"I'm going on about nothing now. I shouldn't make this about me."

"Jane, you were abducted and had a bomb strapped to your chest. It's fine to talk about what your thought process was."

I get up and sit next to him.

"Thank you." I say, graciously.

"Listen Jane, I know it must be stressful to be in that situation. You should know though, that if you choose to work with me, there will be other situations that may put you in immediate danger. I don't want you to think that you have to be my assistant, so if you have any doubts about this, you're more than welcome to stop."

I simply look at him and smile. I know he means well and that he is trying to look after me, but I don't want to stop working with him. We have only just begun.

"I'm not going to stop, Sherlock. I can take care of myself and I like working with you. I could use some danger in my life."

He laughs lightly and stands up.

"Well, I am going to retire for the night. I'll see you in the morning?" He reaches his hand out to help me off the couch. I accept it and stand up.

"Yeah, you will. Goodnight Sherlock."

We both head off in different directions to our bedrooms.


	3. The Next Day

_Back to the present: January 6th, 2012_

"Sherlock, can I talk to you?" I asked him as he sat at the kitchen counter, looking into his microscope. He answered me without looking up.

"Of course, there is tea in the kettle if you want it."

"Thank you." I was trying to hesitate to start the conversation, so fixing myself some tea was a good time waster. Once I was finished, I stood next to him while he worked.

"Last night, I came back here from work and saw you asleep on the couch."

"You've seen me do that before, it's nothing abnormal."

I continued to hesitate and shifted my standing position uncomfortably.

"Why were you crying?"

He stopped looking through his microscope and looked up at me with a very plain face.

"What are you talking about?"

"I saw that you had been crying."

"I was doing no such thing."

"Sherlock, I know what crying looks like. Don't lie to me."

He suddenly got a very serious look on his face.

"It is nothing you need to concern yourself over, Jane. This is something that, for once, you should not get yourself involved in."

"Can I maybe decide that for myself?"

He was no longer serious. Now he looked very irritated and he begins to raise his voice.

"Why do you even want to know? What impact on your life will it have to know the reason behind the one time I have ever cried?"

I am done trying to be nice. All I want to do is see if I can help him and he snaps at me. He always does this, I have known him for so long and he has never once told me what's on his mind.

"I just want to help you! Is that really too much to ask? Can't you let me at least once try to help you, or does your pride get in the way of that? You're my friend and when I see you upset, it upsets me too."

"It's not important! Why should you concern yourself over someone else's problems? Just mind your own business."

"That's great advice coming from someone who tells people their entire lives just by looking at them."

"You really are quite annoying at times; I just hope you are aware of that."

I am baffled that he would say that to me.

"You're so mature. I really hope insulting me makes you feel better."

"Actually, it really does." He said with a very sarcastic smile. "Isn't it time for your evening walk or something? I am trying to work and you're distracting me."

"Fine, don't let me distract you. Don't bother waiting up for me. If I'm lucky, I won't be coming back!" I slam my mug on the table, walk into the living room, grab my coat, and leave.

This is not the first time we have had a row like this. It was the first time I said I might not be back, though. To be honest, I said that just to get to him. It probably did nothing. I'll be back; I'll just walk around longer than usual. In fact, I think I'll go to Scotland Yard and talk to Lestrade. Hopefully, he will be able to help me.

It is too far for me to walk there, so I take a cab instead. It takes me about ten minutes to get there and I walk inside to be greeted by Sally Donovan.

"Where's the freak? I figured you two lovebirds were inseparable."

I shoot her a dirty look.

"Shut up Sally, where's Lestrade?"

"In his office, what's the problem? Did the freak go missing?"

"What's your problem, Sally? Are you jealous that Sherlock can solve your crimes better then you can? I bet you've never bothered to get to know him, you just base your hatred on the fact that he's better than you. Just leave him alone for once." I don't even give her a chance to answer. I simply walk over to Lestrade's office and knock on the door.

He welcomes me inside almost instantly and offers me a cup of coffee. I decline the offer and sit down.

"What can I do for you, Jane?"

"I'm just worried about Sherlock. He is not acting like himself."

"What do you mean?"

"He is just more distant than usual, he doesn't speak for days sometimes, he insults me every chance he gets, and yesterday I walked into the flat and found him asleep on the couch, having recently cried."

Lestrade listened intently until I was done, then responded quietly.

"Well, what do you think you should do?"

"I don't know, I've tried talking to him about it and he just shuts down or gets angry. I have been dealing with this for months now and I am getting sick of it. I almost feel as if I should just find another flat, he probably wouldn't care."

"Don't be so sure. Sherlock has spoken to me while you weren't here, when I ask him why you're not helping him, he says that the case is too dangerous and he doesn't want you to get hurt. I think he cares for you more then he lets on, he just doesn't want to show it because of the whole sociopath thing."

"If that's true, if he really cares for me as much as you say he does, he is not doing a very good job reassuring me by constantly throwing insults at me."

Lestrade leaned back in his chair and sighed.

"I know he tells his brother a lot about what's going on. Maybe you could talk to him and get answers."

"Why would he tell his brother? I thought they couldn't stand each other."

"Well as much as he doesn't want to admit it, Mycroft has helped him through a lot so it makes sense to go to him for help. He is family after all, he of all people would understand."

"I suppose you're right, thank you for that."

"It's no problem." He said with a smile.

We continued to talk for hours and I completely lost track of the time. I didn't even realize it was past midnight until I looked at the clock behind Lestrade.

"Oh my gosh, I really should be getting home. Thank you for talking to me." I stand up.

"Do you want a ride back?"

"No thank you, I could find a cab."

"Okay just be careful."

I exit the police station and look outside for a cab. I can't see one, I decide to just keep walking until one shows up. I pull out my phone and check it for any messages. I have one from five minutes ago.

_Come home, we can talk. –SH_

I look at it and consider not responding, but I text back anyway.

_I'm on my way. –JW_

I still don't see a cab anywhere and it will take me a long time to get home. I am already a good distance past Scotland Yard, so it would be pointless to go back. I turn to go down another block; I make my way past a particularly dark road.

The only sound I can hear is the click of my heeled boots. The sound echoes down the long, dark street. I was always jumpy at this time of the night, especially when I was alone, but I have done this before and there is nothing to worry about.

My thoughts of reassurance are cut short when a van pulls up to where I am and I am grabbed by a very strong man running out. I try to fight back but he is twice my size and I am roughly shoved into the van. I try to gather my surroundings but I cannot do it for very long because a familiar voice starts speaking right in front of me.

"Long time no see, Jane." Moriarty winks and smiles, then nods at the man sitting in front to drive away.

"Not long enough, what do you want this time? Come to strap another bomb on me?" Egging him on might not be the best idea, but I have to try to show him I am not afraid of him.

"Not quite, my dear. You see, I seem to recall the last time we met and I said to you that someday you would be mine. I intend to keep that promise, one way or another." He reached forward and stroked my cheek again, like he did at the pool. This time, I slapped his hand away and was met with a hard slap to my face. "Behave Jane, and this will all go much faster."

"What do you mean?" I ask, trying my best to prevent my voice from cracking.

"Don't try to resist, it will only prove worse for you."

The next thing I knew, Moriarty was attacking me. I fought back for awhile, but he called for help and the man who grabbed me before held me down while the worst I could possibly imagine began to happen.


	4. Aftermath

I feel dirty. There has to have been more that I could have done to prevent this. I'm still in this van, I need to get out. Every time the driver makes a turn, I flinch and Moriarty looks at me.

"Try to calm down, my dear, you don't look so well." He said sarcastically. I try not to even look at him. The car makes a sudden stop and I fall forward near him. I quickly scramble away but his henchman goes over to the back door of the van and opens it. He grabs me and roughly pushes me out. Moriarty calls to me from inside the van.

"I had a nice time, Jane. Maybe we'll do this again sometime." He winked. I didn't get off the ground until he was out of sight.

I manage to stand up but I grab onto the wall for support. I run to a nearby garbage can as the contents of my stomach are emptied out. The only thing I can think of right now is him standing over me. I start to panic even more when I think of Sherlock.

He can't find out, I don't want him to see me like this. I know I won't be able to hide it from him though, he will just see right through me. I look at my surroundings and realize that I am at the end of my block. I check my phone for the time. It is 5:00am; I was in that van for at least four and a half hours. I also see that I have three new messages from Sherlock.

_Where are you? -SH_

_ Please answer me; it's been two hours since I last heard from you. It's really late! -SH_

_ I'm calling Lestrade! -SH_

I don't answer any of them. I just start walking to the flat. It doesn't take long, only about five minutes. Opening the door and going upstairs, I notice that Sherlock isn't home. I even check his bedroom, no one is there. Maybe he is with Lestrade. I waste no time going to the bathroom and turning on the shower. The feel of the hot water on my skin feels amazing.

I wash my hair thoroughly along with everything else. I am in the shower for at least an hour. The tears hit the floor like bullets. Regaining my composure, I step out of the shower and dry off. I use the towel to dry my hair and place it in the hamper.

I get dressed with fresh clothes and throw the old ones in the trash. There is no way I can ever wear those clothes again. I am about to go to bed when I hear someone come into the flat. I tried to be quiet but I managed to drop something and a very angry Sherlock burst through my door.

"Would you care to tell me where the hell you were? I called Lestrade and he said you went to see him and left at midnight. It doesn't take five hours to walk here from Scotland Yard!"

"It doesn't matter where I was; the point is I'm here now!"

This did not help the anger in his eyes. He stepped forward and looked at me straight in the eye and observed everything he could. His voice changed from angry to his usual voice.

"Why did you change your clothes? Where are the old ones?"

"They got far too dirty, I threw them out."

"Oh, I'm sure it's nothing Mrs. Hudson can't handle. Where are they? I'll get them."

"No!"

My sudden outburst made him look at me very funny. He knew something was wrong and he could see in my eyes what it was. He moved more toward me and spoke very intensely.

"Jane, where were you?"

"I just took a while to get back, that's all!"

He suddenly grabs both of my arms and pushes me against the wall. The sudden shock makes me scream and doesn't help my argument.

"Don't lie to me, Jane! Who did this to you?"

I am too frozen to answer, I just start breathing deeply. He gets angrier and repeats his question, even louder this time.

"Who did this to you?"

I can only manage one word, but this word is all I need.

"Moriarty."

He blinks a few times, lets go of me, and steps back. He doesn't say a word; he simply exits my bedroom and prepares to leave the flat. I run into the living room.

"Sherlock, wait!" He turns to look at me. "Please don't leave me here alone."

He sets his coat down and directs me to the couch. I am jumpy, but I trust him more than I trust any other human being on this planet. I know he will not harm me.

He sits down on the end of the couch and I sit next to him. He wraps his arm around me and pulls me close to him, allowing me to gently weep on his shirt. I know he must feel awkward, but he manages to speak up anyway.

"We need to go to Scotland Yard later; we need to talk to Lestrade about this."

I only nod to indicate that I understand. If it were up to me, no one would find out about this. There was no way I was about to get past Sherlock though.

We spent the rest of the morning on the couch together. Due to the little sleep I got, I ended up falling asleep on his shoulder. I woke up at about noon; Sherlock was no longer with me. He had gotten up and placed a blanket over me. He was probably in his bedroom.

He heard me move around the living room and opened his door. What I expected to happen, surprisingly, did not happen. I expected him to barely look at me and avoid any subject on the matter at hand. Yet, when he opened his door, he looked right at me, smiled, and greeted me like he usually does. The only difference is that he stated that we needed to go to Scotland Yard right away to see Lestrade. I agreed and we set off.

The cab ride there was uneventful. It was nearly silent except for Sherlock telling the cabbie where to go. Once we got out, we stepped into the police station and made our way to Lestrade's office, but not before being confronted by Anderson.

"Well, if it isn't the dream team, here to fight more crime?"

"Not now, Anderson." Sherlock replied, very seriously. Anderson did not get the hint.

"I hope you're enjoying living with a woman for once in your life. Don't try to play stupid though, we all know that you're shagging her." He said that last part loud on purpose to draw the attention of everyone around. Not only was what he said not true, it was humiliating.

"Anderson, I strongly suggest that you shut up now!" Sherlock sounded angry, and I don't blame him because I was just as mad.

"What are you going to do? You're nothing but a freak that solves crimes by using magic tricks. Go back to the circus where you belong and leave the crimes to the experts."

At this, I have had enough. I stomp up to Anderson and punch him square in the nose. He grabs his nose in pain and stumbles over. Sherlock grabs my arm and pulls me away from him. We continue to walk toward Lestrade's office and Sherlock leans forward and whispers something in my ear.

"Nice job."

I try to stifle a laugh and we finally make it to Lestrade's office and close the door behind us.


	5. A Visit to Mycroft

"Seems to me like every time you two have a row, something bad happens." Lestrade said, trying to make a joke. Neither of us were very amused, but I faked a small laugh to express how I appreciated the effort.

"Lestrade, do you really think making a joke was a good idea? We need to find Moriarty!" Sherlock said, sounding slightly annoyed.

"I'm sorry; I was simply trying to brighten the mood." He looked at me. "Were you offended in any way?"

I shake my head and thank him for at least trying to make the situation lighter.

"Now Sherlock, I know you want to catch Moriarty, but we have no idea how to track him down. He is extremely crafty." Lestrade said.

"Oh we're not here to ask you to catch Moriarty." He responded. We both looked at him. "I am going to catch him myself, I am just asking you to let me know if you see anything suspicious."

"Sherlock, it's too dangerous!"

"This is not a police matter, Lestrade. It's personal."

"That may be, but when he attacked Jane, it became a police matter. You can't go off on your own!"

At this, I spoke up.

"It only now became a police matter? What about when he grabbed me off the street and strapped a bomb to my chest?"

"Well Jane, that was a few years ago and while we can still charge him for that, he let you go. He didn't this time."

Sherlock spoke up once again.

"Lestrade, you said it yourself, he's crafty. If anyone can find him, it's me."

"Okay listen, do what you want, but if anyone else gets hurt I am taking you off the case. Is that clear?"

Sherlock nodded, and then he turned to me to ask if I was willing to help him find Moriarty. I said yes and we said goodbye to Lestrade. We walked down the street a little while before he hailed a cab, he told the driver where to go and we drove off.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Mycroft's office, he needs to know that he has to be aware of any suspicious activity."

"Okay, so are we going to tell the whole world about this?"

"Mycroft is not a threat. You have nothing to worry about."

I wanted to argue, but I chose not to. I don't think I would admit it to Sherlock, but I somewhat liked his brother. I saw his softer side when he told me he actually was concerned for him. I only wrote in my journal that I didn't want to see him again in case Sherlock ever opened it and spied on what I was writing.

In no more than 20 minutes, we arrive at Mycroft's office. We are greeted by Anthea and led to the room. Mycroft is sitting down at his desk when we walk in.

"Hello Sherlock, hello Jane. I am quite surprised to see you. You don't normally show up uninvited. I presume something is wrong, then?"

Sherlock nods and we both sit down. He spends the next ten minutes explaining everything that has happened. Mycroft sometimes looked at me, almost as if to confirm that was he is saying is true, I simply nod every time.

"Jane, please accept my condolences. No one should have to go through that. Sherlock, may I ask why you have informed me of this?"

"We don't know if he will continue to follow her. I am asking you if you would be willing to be aware of anything suspicious. I need to make sure that Jane is safe from this maniac."

"Yes, I can do that. I will help you both in any way I can."

"Thank you, Mycroft. I think that's all we need." Sherlock looks at me to indicate that we should leave.

"Actually, can I talk to Mycroft for a few minutes?"

Sherlock looks at me strangely, but eventually agrees.

"Of course, I'll be outside. I need to get something anyway." With that, he leaves the room, leaving me and Mycroft alone.

"Can I just ask you a question?" I start.

"Of course, anything you wish."

"Before any of this happened, do you know what's been going on with Sherlock lately?"

"Care to elaborate?"

"Well, I talked to Lestrade too and I'll just tell you what I told him. He is very distant, very condescending, he won't speak for days sometimes, and I just recently saw him right after he cried himself to sleep. It's just not like him; do you know what's going on?"

Mycroft leaned back for a moment and sighed before responding.

"Jane, there is a reason why Sherlock speaks to me about some things. Also, I happen to know that there is a reason for his change in behavior. However, Sherlock came to me with this because he trusts me not to tell anyone. I am afraid I can't break that trust."

"Why doesn't he trust me? I've been working with him for a long time!"

"Please don't even begin to think he does not appreciate all that you've done for him. On top of him confiding in me, he is constantly telling me how great he thinks you are. I seem to recall him saying to me once that you were everything he has ever hoped for."

My eyes widened, I know that Lestrade said sort of the same thing, but what Mycroft said was truly unexpected. Had Sherlock really said this?

"Mycroft, if I am going to continue to work with him I have the right to know what is going on. If what you say is true and he really does feel this way, then he should have no problem expressing his feelings to me. What if it is something dangerous and I want to help him? I can't because everyone is refusing to tell me!"

"Jane-"

"Oh, and do I need to remind you that you were the one who offered me money to betray Sherlock's trust?"

Mycroft sighed and looked at me very seriously.

"If I tell you, I want you to swear to me that you will not let him know I told you."

"Of course, I promise."

He hesitated. I knew that whatever it was he was going to tell me, it was dangerous.

"As you may have guessed, my brother is a recovered cocaine addict."

I nod; he has never gone into detail about that except for the drug of choice. Mycroft continues.

"Well, recovered is being very generous, he constantly struggles with the urge to try it one more time. I am obligated to keep his cocaine in my possession. I am having my assistants flush it tonight. As clever as Sherlock may be, he always underestimates me. I happen to know that when he said he needed to get something, he meant he has to look for the cocaine."

"What? You just let him go?"

"Hardly, I texted Anthea right after he left the room to prevent him from getting anywhere near it. Anyway, he comes to me to express to me his struggles and on more than one occasion has begged me to give him back his drug. He also expresses to me sometimes how he doesn't want to try it again for fear he might relapse and he has said to me how that might affect you. Nevertheless, the call of the drug might eventually prove too much for him."

"Is that the reason he cried himself to sleep?"

"Indeed it is, the temptation is getting worse and worse for him. On second thought, I am glad I told you, you can help me keep an eye on him. I understand that you're going through a lot right now, but are you willing to help protect him?"

"Of course I am, I'll do anything to make sure he's safe. I'll face Moriarty a hundred times if I know he'll be safe."

"You're very loyal, Sherlock is lucky to have someone like you."

"Thank you, Mycroft. I should be going now." I stand up and say goodbye, he says goodbye as well and I leave the room. I see Sherlock standing on the outside of the building, waiting for me.

"Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you would be finished in there." He smiles at me with one of the most genuine smiles I have ever seen. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and we walk away from the office and toward the main road to find a cab back to our home.


	6. An Old Enemy

_Flashback_

Sherlock and I run out of the building upon seeing the murderer leave and get into his car. It is about 9:00pm and we were relying on the stars and the streetlights to keep up.

"Jane, do you have your gun on you?" Sherlock asks me.

"Of course I do." I respond.

"Good, you go that way." He points to his left. "I'll go the other way, phone Lestrade whenever he stops"

I waste no time running down the road, making turn after turn, going as fast as I can. I can see Sherlock jumping from the very close rooftops, directing me where to go. He is much faster than me, but I can still get a general idea of where to go from where he runs.

Eventually, the car stops at an apartment building. Sherlock climbs down from the building and doesn't wait for me. He goes right into the building after waiting a few seconds for the man to go inside. I arrive a few minutes later upon seeing the car parked. I curse myself for not getting there faster. I pull out my mobile and dial Lestrade's number. He answers after only a couple rings.

"Jane, is everything alright?"

"Lestrade, I'm not sure what street we're on, but we found the murderer's home. Try to trace my phone."

"Already have, we're on our way. Stay where you are!"

"I have to go inside and make sure Sherlock is alright, but I'm not leaving the area." I hang up without giving him a chance to respond. Taking precautions, I take my gun out of my coat and walk carefully into the building.

The door to the upstairs room is wide open. I run up to find Sherlock wrestling with the suspect. Neither of them noticed me, I point my gun at them but I don't shoot. I run the risk of hitting Sherlock. However, Sherlock clearly has the upper hand in the fight and is on top of the suspect, punching him in the face.

There was another man in the room, though. Luckily I saw him as he was about to thrust a knife into my friend's back. He didn't see me either, but my presence became clear when I managed to shout as loud as I could.

"Sherlock, watch out behind you!" I take my aim quickly and fire. The man drops the knife and stumbles over, clutching his arm. Sherlock and the suspect freeze in place and look to see what happened. I aim my gun at the man below Sherlock.

"If you move, I shoot. It's your choice." Sherlock gets up off the floor and walks over toward me. He stands next to me, assisting in watching the two men. No more than five minutes later, Lestrade and the others arrive at the scene. They come rushing in to find me and Sherlock at the top of the staircase with me pointing a gun inside the room. Lestrade runs up and sees the two men on the floor, one of them shot. He simply looks at me.

"Were you justified in shooting him?"

"Yes, he was about to stab Sherlock. Look at the knife on the floor."

Lestrade trusts the both of us; we have never lied to them before unless it had to be done. He nods and directs the officers to arrest the two of them. Sherlock and I walk outside and I put my gun back in my coat. Instinctively, I begin to walk back toward Baker Street, when Sherlock suddenly pulls me to the sidewalk.

"Just one thing before we go home, Jane." Sherlock says with a serious face.

"What would that be?" I really don't know what to expect.

"If your blogs about our cases ever get famous, I want you to do me a favor. Never let anyone say that you were merely my blogger. Never let anyone say that."

I smile at his kind words, complimenting me was not something I was used to from him. It was flattering, but since I wasn't used to it, I was a bit confused.

"Why do you say that?"

"Don't play dumb, Jane, we both know that if you weren't there, I wouldn't be either. He would have killed me."

I smile even more now that I know that he appreciated this.

"Hey, that's what I'm here for. I would never let anyone hurt you." At this, he smiles and we both head back to Baker Street.

_Back to the present: January 8th, 2012_

I sit on the couch, pondering this memory. It is simple, but it is by far the best memory we've had together. However, it is definitely not the most interesting one we have ever had. There have been many wild cases. I don't have time to think of that now, though. It is 10:00pm and Sherlock isn't back yet. I can't help that it's in my nature to worry. He usually doesn't stay out this late and he isn't on a case.

I jump as the door slams open. Sherlock runs in, looks at me, and bolts toward me. He stops once he realizes that he didn't close the door and slams it shut. He runs back over toward me and practically jumps on top of me, clinging to me for dear life.

"Sherlock, what the hell do you think you're doing? Get off of me!" I try to push him off, but it only leads to him latching onto me even more.

"No, Jane! They're coming!"

"What? Who's coming?" I look at him, very confused.

"Everyone, they are all coming after me! You need to protect me! Remember how you said you would always protect me, well now is the perfect time! Get your gun ready, you're to shoot the next person who walks through that door!"

Sherlock never acts like this, nor does he ever want protection from anyone else. He is always the braver one, I know I should be getting scared right now, but his clinging to me is just making quite annoyed.

"No one is shooting anyone! What are you talking about?"

"I'm being followed, I don't know by whom, but they were following me for blocks! They're scary." He looks up at me. "There were four of them and- Jane, did you do something to your hair? It looks nice."

"Okay, now you're talking about my hair? It's time to get off of me." I pry his hands off and he moves next to me. I look at him in the eye, only to notice that his pupils are dilated. I feel his wrist; his pulse is as fast as a racehorse. I feel his forehead, he is burning up.

"Sherlock, do you have a fever?"

"Do you?"

"What?"

"You heard me, do _you_ have a fever?"

"No, Sherlock, I don't have a fever."

"Well there's your answer, buttercup."

"Since when do you call me that?"

"Since just now, do you like it?"

"Not really, it's uncomfortable."

"Spoilsport."

"Whatever."

I stand up and go into the kitchen, calling to Sherlock from there.

"Did you eat?" I turn around and shriek when I notice him standing right behind me. "Don't scare me like that!"

"Who has time to eat? I want to do something fun!"

In my confusion, he grabs me and starts twirling me around the room. He makes me slightly dizzy and after a few spins I manage to push him away from me.

"Sherlock, what has gotten into you? Did you take something?"

"That depends what you mean by something."

I look at him, trying to figure out what he means, when I suddenly realize. I can feel my face turning ghost white and I nearly faint.

"Sherlock, you didn't."

"Didn't what? I'm just having a bit of fun, it's a dull week."

"_Dull?"_ I scream so loud I wouldn't be surprised if I woke up the whole block. With every comment he has ever made to me, he has never said anything more offensive to me than that. I am taken aback at first, hurt, but eventually that changes to anger and I run up to the consulting detective and slap him hard across the face.

I slapped him hard enough to leave a big red mark on his face, which he grabbed almost instantly. He stumbles across the floor for a few moments.

"What was that for?"

I start sobbing. After everything I have ever done for him, everything I have gone through for him. He has the nerve to do this again.

"Shut up! I can't believe you; I hope you burn in hell!" I retreat to my room right after saying this, slamming the door. I curl up on my bed and continue to sob, thoughts racing through my head. Sherlock opens to door slowly.

"Jane, I-" I don't let him finish, I grab an empty picture frame and chuck it at the door.

"Get out!" He closes the door quickly and I hear him shuffle to his room and close the door. I don't hear from him the rest of the night.

I can't sleep a wink the whole night. I barely stop crying until at least 3:00am. I am too afraid to fall asleep anyway; I don't want to encounter a nightmare. It's good that I have the day off tomorrow; I wouldn't be able to concentrate. Although, this means I have to stay home all day with Sherlock. I suppose I could go for a walk or something. I need to have a talk with Mycroft anyway; I can't believe he said he had everything taken care of. I lay with my back to the door and my eyes wide open until I can see the sunrise from my window.


	7. Journal Entry 2

_January 18th, 2012_

These past ten days have been an absolute nightmare. I haven't spoken a word to him since that day. It's not really like he cares anyway, all he does now is leave for most of the day and come back at around 10:00pm to 11:00pm. It's always the same too; he always comes back while he is on that horrid drug. Stumbling in, he retreats straight to his bedroom. Usually I am in my room by the time he gets home.

Don't think for a second that I didn't call his brother right away. I informed him of everything that was happening. He told me that he would do what he could to help him. Like I am supposed to know what that means and he really expects me to just wait, doesn't he? I asked him if I should phone Lestrade about this and he told me not to. He doesn't want Sherlock to get arrested or banned from doing any further cases with Scotland Yard. That will only make the situation worse for him.

I need to stop this by myself. I am not going to pretend that this will be easy, though. It will be hard enough for me just to speak to him again. I just need to make sure I don't get angry, if that happens it will only get me even more upset. I was never good with anger. After all, it cost me a good picture frame.

Once again, I will have to start this myself. I'll just take the day to figure out what I'm going to say. More importantly, I need to know why he started again. I understand that it is hard to quit something like that, but he was already years clean. He usually leaves around 3:00pm, so I'll cut him off before then. I've never done an intervention before, so I hope this goes well. All I know is that I am done waiting for everyone else. Maybe it will be awkward, but something needs to be done. I think I know what to do, depending on what his response to the intervention is.

Wish me luck,

Jane H. Watson


	8. His Fault

_January 20th, 2012_

Today is the day. It's time to finally put an end to this madness. I've been sitting on the couch all day, waiting. At 2:55pm, I stand up and walk to the door. Almost as if on cue, Sherlock steps out of his bedroom and starts toward the door. He stops once he sees me and looks around awkwardly.

"Um, Jane, I need to be somewhere."

"I know, but you're not going anywhere. We're talking right now and I don't want to hear a word about it."

Sherlock looks around, as if he doesn't believe me.

"Come on Jane, now is not the time for this."

"Yes it is. If you want to leave, you'll have to get past me and the way I feel right now, you won't be getting very far."

Sherlock sighs in defeat.

"Okay, why don't we talk on the couch?"

"No, we're going to talk about this right here. I don't want to sit on the couch and have you run off."

"Fine, we can talk. What is it?"

"Don't give me that, Sherlock. Stop acting like nothing I say is important! I have been your friend since the day I met you. I just need to know one thing. Why, after everything that we've gone through together, have you started using again?"

"Jane, I don't expect you to understand. An addiction is hard to beat, even for me. Everyone faces the possibility of relapse."

"That's all well and good, but you were clean and sober for over five years. Don't tell me that after all those years, you suddenly got the urge to try it again."

"I wish I can say that I fully beat it, but once an addict, always an addict. You can try to help me all you want, Jane. The fact of the matter is-" He stops short after saying this, his voice suddenly shifts to very calm. "I'm beyond help. There is nothing you can do for me."

I lean against the door and unfold my arms, putting them in my pockets.

"How did you get clean last time?"

"It wasn't easy. Mycroft helped me, which is why I go to him. It's not because I don't trust you. Anyway, he cut me off completely. He took all of my money, all of the drugs, and told Lestrade to stop contacting me until I was better. It took months; Mycroft would have food sent to me. Normally, I would just throw the bags at whoever came. I tried everything to get money; I even considered selling my blood. Mycroft considered that and had every location shut down."

"You never fully recovered because he forced you off, you didn't want it for yourself. You never knew you had a problem and you took it out on everyone else."

"I know I have a problem, I also know that I am beyond help! You're wasting your time!"

"Am I really? Sherlock, after everything that has happened recently, you start using cocaine and I am stuck in my bedroom waiting for you to stop. Now tell me, don't you think you are the one wasting my time?"

"Seems very like you to make this about yourself. Quite selfish don't you think?"

Surprisingly, I don't raise my voice very much. I am a bit angry at his comment, but I manage to avoid shouting.

"Selfish? Sherlock let me explain something to you. You insulted me after I tried to help you, so I left. I talked to Lestrade to try and get some answers but he was just as clueless as I was. I leave Scotland Yard, can't find a taxi, and start walking back. I was abducted by a maniac I was hoping I would never see again, beaten, and raped for four hours straight. After which I was dumped onto the street, only to come home to you shouting at me to tell you where I was. Forgive me if I happen to mention it once and a while. I'm not the selfish one, Sherlock."

He breathes deeply and looks at me straight in the eye.

"Maybe you shouldn't have left that night; did you ever think of that?"

My mouth opens so fast it might as well have hit the floor. I respond very quietly.

"Are you saying this is my fault?"

"I'm saying that…this could have been prevented."

"How do you know he wouldn't have found me some other night? He has probably been following me for months now, plotting this!"

"Well what do you want me to say, Jane? Do you want me to say it was his fault? Fine, it was his fault! Are you happy now?"

"I don't know what's gotten into you, Sherlock. I really do want to help you, but I'm not sure I can if you really feel this way."

"I see, you're giving up on me? Something you said you would never do."

"No, you've already given up on me. You said you would try and find Moriarty and have you even started yet? No, you immediately started using cocaine. I'm not the one giving up."

"What's going to happen now than?"

"I'm moving out. I have to find a place of my own. I think I'm going to stay with my sister for a little while."

I turn around to leave when Sherlock grabs me by the arm and turns me around.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I can't bear to live with someone who shows no sympathy for anything that happens, especially to someone whom you claim to care about. Honestly, after what you said to me the other night. I don't know if I can forgive you."

"Wait, Jane. It wasn't me. I was under a bad influence!" He looks me in the eye and for once, I see pain, like he finally feels something. "Please don't go."

"How am I supposed to believe that it wasn't you when you're sober right now and told me a moment ago that it was my fault?"

He lets out a defeated sigh and steps back.

"I'm sorry."

"Me too, but I can't stay. I'll be back tomorrow for my stuff."

I turn around and open the door. I glance over at Sherlock one more time to see him looking down. A single tear rolls down his cheek. I exit and close the door behind me.


	9. A Phone Call

_February 1st, 2012_

Harry took me in with open arms. I am glad that after how much we have fought and ridiculed each other, she will still help me when I really need it. I told her everything that happened and she showed me her deepest sympathy. She told me her opinion that seemed to be the same as everyone else's. She said Sherlock and I were good together and made a great team. I told her we weren't together as a couple and she sighed and said that it was a shame because we look like it.

She has asked me before how long I plan on staying. To be honest, I never really thought about that. I wasn't planning on living here for very long, but I also have no plans on moving back to Baker Street. I am going to look for a new place tomorrow.

Sherlock has not contacted me since I left, neither has Lestrade or Mycroft. Maybe this is my chance to start fresh. I could erase my blog and be a whole new person. The thought of this makes me smile. I really did like working with Sherlock, but all good things come to an end. It is 5:00pm and I am sitting in my room, bored, typing on my computer. Harry opens the door and looks inside.

"Hey Jane, I need to go to the supermarket. I'll be right back."

"I'll go with you." I say with a smile.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, I don't have anything to do."

We spend the next hour or so talking and laughing like real sisters should. I'm upset that Harry and I never got on like this in the past, but I am glad that we are now. We step out of the supermarket, a bag in each hand, and walk back to the flat. Once inside, I help her put all of the groceries away just in time for my phone to ring. Mycroft is calling me. I excuse myself to my room and answer.

"Hello Mycroft."

"Jane, I am very happy you answered. I honestly wasn't expecting you to."

"It's no trouble. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I need you to come to Baker Street at once!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Please Jane, it's urgent."

I sigh and start gathering my things.

"Alright, I'll be there in a little while."

"On second thought, let my driver come and pick you up. It could be dangerous."

I agree and hang up. Ten minutes later, the driver shows up. I explain to Harry where I am going and she says that she understands, adding a side note that she hopes I work it out with Sherlock. I climb into the backseat and ride back to Baker Street. I knock on the door and am greeted by Mycroft. He leads me inside and Sherlock is nowhere in sight.

"Have a seat Jane. There is much to talk about."

I sit on the couch and Mycroft takes the chair. He has a very concerned look on his face. Before I am able to ask what's going on, Mycroft speaks up.

"Sherlock is gone."

My mouth opens in shock and I respond almost instantly.

"What? What do you mean he's gone? Where is he?"

"I wish I knew. Moriarty has him."

I freeze, when Moriarty said at the pool that he wasn't finished with us he wasn't joking and in more ways than one.

"How did Moriarty get to Sherlock?"

"Let me explain further. When you left, Sherlock wasn't the same. I apologize for underestimating him; I should have known that he would somehow find the drug. However, he spoke to me on the phone yesterday and told me that he has not taken anything since you left."

"Did he really?" I say calmly.

"Indeed he did, but that did not help his moods. I was worried about him and would come to visit occasionally and would walk in on him sobbing on the couch. Once he saw me he would act as if it had never happened, but it was obvious. You changed him Jane, much more than he will admit and when you left, he changed for the worst."

I am touched, but at the same time I am confused.

"What does any of this have to do with Moriarty?"

"You see, on top of him informing me that he has not done any drugs yesterday, he told me he has given up. He said he doesn't care what happens to him anymore and said that-" He paused and took a deep breath. I could see that he was deeply concerned. "He would be giving himself up to Moriarty that day. I did my best to try and stop him, even sending several men here, but by the time they got here he was gone."

I am too shocked to speak. I put my hand over my mouth and try to prevent myself from crying. How could Sherlock have been so reckless?

"Why did you bring me to his flat to tell me this?"

"He left a note here." He hands me a folded piece of paper. I slowly unfold it and read.

_Bring her here. I will make sure to call later so we can all have a good time. –M_

I refold it and hand it back to Mycroft.

"What are we going to do?"

"For now we must wait. If he is serious, he will call eventually."

We waited at least an hour for a phone call. I suggested we call Lestrade, but Mycroft advised against it. He said that we don't want to do anything that may anger Moriarty. Once the phone rang, I was the first to answer it. I put it on speaker.

"Hello?"

"Hello Jane, I miss you. We should meet up soon."

His voice makes me shiver and cringe. Mycroft gets up and sits next to me to be reassuring. I nod and Mycroft speaks.

"Moriarty, where is my brother?"

"Why hello Mycroft, I don't believe we have been properly introduced. Hopefully that will change. Sherlock is doing just fine, although I can't promise for how long."

"May we talk to him?"

"I don't see any problem with that." He calls somewhere near him. "Oh Sherlock, your friends want to say hello!"

We can hear Sherlock in the distance. He sounds distressed and weak.

"Mycroft, Jane, don't look for me! Just leave me here!"

The sound of a smack silences him and Moriarty's voice returns to the phone.

"I don't think he misses you, but I do. I wish you would come and visit me." He says sarcastically. This time, I answer him.

"What do you want?"

"You know what I want Jane. I want to burn him, I have already burnt you. Maybe you can come and play!"

"Well we can't do that if we don't know where you are."

"You just leave that to me, I'll get you here. I'll even let you bring Mycroft and that cop you hang around with if you want. No one else though, or I don't even need to say what will happen to poor old Sherlock. Am I clear?"

I don't know what he means by he will get us there, but it is a risk I will have to take. I know I was mad at Sherlock, but I don't care about that anymore! I just need to get him back!

"Yeah, we're clear. When do we meet?"

"I would say that tomorrow is just fine, get everyone together. This is going to be fun!" He hangs up. Mycroft looks at me.

"Are you sure you want to do this Jane?"

I stand up and turn toward him, dialing my phone.

"Of course I'm sure, we're getting him back and there is nothing Moriarty can do about it! I told you I would never let any harm come to him, well now is my chance to prove it!"

I press send and wait for Lestrade to pick up. It's time to once and for all face Moriarty.


	10. Revelation

Mycroft and Lestrade spent the night in Baker Street. Moriarty instructed us to wait for further instructions. I don't know why he is making so easy for us, but I am happy to at least have these two with me. At about 5:00pm, my phone rings. I check the caller ID and see that it says that the number is blocked. No turning back now. I answer the phone with Mycroft and Lestrade listening intently.

"Glad to hear our plans are still on, Jane. I will give you instructions and you will follow them to the letter. If you disregard any these rules, Sherlock dies."

"I understand. What are you orders?"

"There is a car parked outside. You and the others are to get in without question."

"Okay, and then what?"

"You let me take care of the rest. See you soon, I can't wait."

I hang up. I turn to the others and repeat the instructions. They agree and we leave the flat. We find a car parked outside and waiting for us. The driver looks at us and instructs us to get inside, we obey. Mycroft gets in first, with me in the middle and Lestrade getting in last. We are silent the whole way there.

We are taken to the last place I expected, the pool. Why did he bring us to the pool again? We open the doors ourselves and walk into the building. We look around for Moriarty and he is nowhere in sight. I call out into the echoing area of the pool that I am all too familiar with.

"Moriarty, we're here and I'm through with this game of yours! Bring me Sherlock now!"

Moriarty emerges from the same two doors he came out of the last time we were here. He walks around the pool and walks toward us until he is standing only a few feet from us.

"Now now Jane, let's not get feisty."

Upon seeing him come through the doors, Lestrade and I pulled out our weapons. Mycroft did not have a weapon, but stood next to me bravely. I do most of the talking, but occasionally the others will help out.

"I'm quite surprised that you let us keep our weapons. No doubt you knew we were bringing them."

"Of course I knew, but I figured the fight should be evenly matched."

"What do you mean?" Lestrade asked.

Just as he finished saying that, the door next to us opened and a large man emerged with a bound and gagged Sherlock. His face has several cuts and bruises on it and he is barely able to stand up.

"No bomb this time? I'm impressed, and where are your snipers? You usually don't go anywhere without them." I say.

"Like I said before, it should be a fair fight. Oh and there is just one more thing. Right now Jane, it's just you and me."

Suddenly two men appear from behind us and grab Mycroft and Lestrade. The one holding Lestrade wrestles the gun away from him and they hold the two men back with very strong arms. I look to see what's going on, but do not move the gun away from Moriarty.

"Alright so you have us here, what happens now?"

"Don't act so brave Jane. I can see right through you." He moves closer to me and instinctively I back away. "You're nothing but a scared little girl. Do you really think you can save anyone?"

Sherlock looks up at me and shakes his head, probably indicating that I should just leave him there, but that is not going to happen.

"Why did you tell me to bring these two if you were just going to hold them back?"

"Simply because I want them to witness this, to be able to see what I am about to do."

"Well then stop wasting my time and do it already!"

He doesn't even flinch at my attempt at a brave statement. He does, however, look a bit concerned when he hears the police sirens in the distance.

"Fine, I'll do it!"

Suddenly, he turns around and snatches the gun away from his henchman. He aims it at Sherlock and fires. The bullet lands near his stomach. I scream at the shock and immediately shoot Moriarty just as the police arrived. Lestrade yelled at the not to arrest me and to arrest the one I just shot.

They pick Moriarty up off the floor. I shot him in his shoulder and he smiles and laughs the whole time while looking at me.

"This isn't over Jane. I'll be back for you!"

I run over to Sherlock while Lestrade and Mycroft are talking with the police on what happened. I kneel beside him as the paramedics pull him onto the gurney.

"Jane, I'm going to die."

"No! Don't talk like that! You're going to be fine!"

"You shouldn't have come for me."

"I would never leave you."

"I need to tell you something."

"What is it?"

"I-" He starts coughing, which prevents him from going any further.

"Sherlock, maybe you should-"

"I'm in love with you."

I stop in my tracks at Sherlock is rolled away on the gurney and loaded into the ambulance.


	11. Explanations

Lestrade chose to go back to Scotland Yard to give his statement and help to close the case. Mycroft called an assistant of his to pick us up and take us to the hospital. I am silent the whole ride, looking out the window on the way. Does Sherlock really feel this way? I don't even know how I am going to respond to this.

We arrive at the hospital in about half an hour. Mycroft and I wordlessly go inside and ask for Sherlock's room. The nurse instructs us to sit in the waiting room and wait for the doctor. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, Mycroft as well. After at least two hours, the doctor comes out.

"Dr. Watson and Mr. Holmes?"

"Yes, what can you tell us?" I respond.

The doctor sighs before responding.

"He is in stable condition; we had to go into emergency surgery to extract the bullet. He contracted a slight fever but it seems to have gone down. He should be awake now if you want to see him. He is in room 404."

"Thank you, doctor." Mycroft says. After the doctor leaves, Mycroft turns to me.

"Do you want me to go in first? I'll talk to him and see if he is ready for you to come in."

I don't answer him; I simply nod and sit back down. Mycroft goes to Sherlock's room and talks to him for about an hour. When he comes back out, he walks over to me and looks at me very seriously.

"He is a wreck. He was sure that the bullet would kill him and says that he can't bear to face you. I don't know if you want to go in there, this must be a very difficult time for you."

"Mycroft, I understand your concern, but I am going in there whether you let me through or I tear my way through."

"Very well, would you like me to come in with you?"

"No thank you, I need to talk to him privately."

He agrees and says that he will wait there. I make my way to room 404 slowly. I am nervous, I don't know what to expect from him. Once in front of the door, I open it and walk inside. Sherlock is on the hospital bed with an IV in his wrist. He looks right at me and looks down.

"Why are you here?" He asks.

"You know why I'm here."

He looks up at me sighs.

"You don't need me."

"What I need is an explanation."

"What do I need to explain?"

"For starters, what you were thinking. Maybe you could explain why you walked right into Moriarty's hands, why you have been acting like a complete fool lately, and why you started using again. This time though, I want the truth."

He agrees and asks me to sit down. I take a chair leaning against the wall and place it right next to the bed, facing him.

"I'll start from the beginning. Over the past few weeks, I will admit, I wasn't myself. I started getting these feelings that I was unaware of. I knew after awhile what it was and I was not sure of how to deal with it. Out of complete disregard for you, I did the only thing I thought of, which was to push you away.

He looks at me to see if I am listening, I nod and he continues.

"I didn't mean to, I really didn't. I have no idea how to handle an emotion like this."

"That's why you have been so distant?"

"Yes, the stress of knowing how I feel and not being able to do anything about it gave me the urge to try something again that I hadn't tried in a while. I tried as best as I could to resist, but it overpowered me."

"That's why you talked to Mycroft?"

"Yes."

"Did he know about everything else?"

"No, I never told him how I felt about you. I only told him about the urges and occasionally I would tell him how I didn't want to hurt you, but that's as far as I went."

I smile, knowing that he had said more, but I leave it alone.

"Mycroft is not an idiot. He may have figured it out for himself."

"Maybe, but if he did he didn't say anything."

We are silent for a few seconds before I speak up again.

"What about these past couple of days?"

"That requires further explanation. The night that you left, I was angry. I was angry at myself for what I said to you and angry that I let you go. I really thought I would never see you again and I just gave up on myself. You are the only person I have ever felt this way about and I just lost all sense of judgment. I updated my website and said that I surrender and he was at my doorstep within the hour."

"That doesn't seem very much like him."

"It wasn't like me either, so he had to jump on the opportunity."

"What did he do to you before we got there?"

"What you would expect, a few punches here and there and endless threats. Until the shot it was nothing life-threatening."

I don't know what to say now. I have everything I need when it comes to answers. There is nothing I can do about how he feels.

"Well, I think I'll be going. You need to get some rest."

I get up and make it to the door before Sherlock calls out to me.

"Jane, wait."

I turn around to face him.

"Yes?"

"Will you move back in with me?"

I was hoping to avoid this question. It was something I thought about on the way here. In the long run, everything might go back to normal, but what if it doesn't? I contemplate this for a moment before looking at him with a smile.

"Yeah, I'll move back in."

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><p><strong>The next chapter might be the last one. If it is, thank everyone for all of your kind reviews and for sticking around for the whole story. Let me know if there is anything you would like to see. :)<strong>


	12. Journal Entry 3

_February 20th, 2012_

I think this will be my last entry for a while. I am still working on fixing everything with Sherlock. After I moved back in, we had a very long conversation about what happened. He went further into explanation about everything and we talked for at least three hours. Sherlock clearly does not know how to properly handle tender subjects, because after a little while he flat out asked me, "Do you love me back?"

At first, I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to break his heart, but what could I do? I thought for a while before answering, but I eventually tried to let him down as easily as I can. "Sherlock, I love you as my friend. I'm really sorry, but it's nothing more than that."

He didn't believe me at first, I don't really know what there was not to believe. I told him a second time that I was sorry and he simply nodded and said that he hopes I will still work with him. I asked him if my presence would distract him and he assured me that it wouldn't. I told him that I would continue to be his partner but I would have to stop if I felt that anything would conflict with his work. He hastily agreed.

Our first case together since this incident was a pretty simple one. Some lunatic was running around killing people during a full moon. We were able to catch him within the first week. Since then, Lestrade has been piling cases on us. Luckily for us, everything seems to have gone back to normal.

Of course, we will never forget what happened these past couple months. How could we? Everything that we knew almost came crashing down. I will never forget what Sherlock said to me as he was being carried away on the gurney. My only hope is that I won't think of that every time I look at him.

Lestrade said it best, Sherlock Holmes is a great man. I will never forget anything that he has done for me. I am always going to look forward to any new case we get and the insane things we talk about while we're together.

There is one thing I will say though. I am not in love with Sherlock, but who knows if that will ever change? I mean, love is a mystery even to me. If I ever fell in love with Sherlock, it would be very interesting. At least I already know he loves me back. I am not counting on it, but still, who knows?

Regardless, this has most certainly been the most memorable thing that has ever happened to us. I only hope that it gets much better from here. We will have to wait and see.

With much love,

Jane H. Watson

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><p><strong>The end. :)<strong>

**I'm not sure if you guys get notified when I change something, so in case you do, I am simply changing the dates on certain chapters. I am making the whole story go from January to the end of February rather than the end of May because I am currently writing the sequel and it would make more sense if the timeline was shorter. Stay tuned for ****what's to come. Hopefully you guys like it.**


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